8-beat intro. Play 4-beats
for each cell, reading from left to right.
Play parts: Verse, Chorus,
Verse, Chorus, Bridge, Verse, Chorus.
_______
Verses:
I found my granpa's banjo
in the attic yesterday,
Dust on the strings, rust on the frets, still had something to
say.
He used to play it on the porch when the sun was setting low,
Now I'm sitting in that same old chair, learning what he used
to know.
Grandpa taught me three
chords when I was just eight years old,
Said music don't come from your fingers, it comes from your soul.
I was too young then to understand what he meant,
Now I'm older and I feel every word that he said.
I'm teaching my daughter the same three chords tonight,
Her small fingers fumble but her eyes are bright.
She asks me why I'm crying when the music sounds so good,
I tell her someday she'll understand like I understood.
Chorus:
These hands aren't his hands,
but they're learning his songs, The melody's linger and the feeling's
still strong,
Every note that I pick brings him back to me,
Grandpa's banjo and me by the old pine tree.
Bridge:
The wood is worn smooth
where his thumb used to rest,
I can almost hear his voice saying "do your best."
Some things you can't teach, they just have to be felt,
Like the love in this banjo that time never steals.